Letoile
by Letoile
Summary: Includes love, adventure, deceit, mild humor, etc. The plot is unique and does stick to the characterization that J.K. has created, by using the HP Lexicon as refrence. SS/OC plus all of the regular characters too.. Please read this!
1. Prologue

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Fic Title: L'etoile

Fic Summary: When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...

Post Date: July 26, 2002

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.

Author Notes: Hi, I'm Anne and I'm relatively new to writing Harry Potter fics. Please read my story and tell me what you think. Any constructive criticism or tips are welcome. Oh, and if any of you happened to read my other story that shared the title _L`etoile _then you should know that this one has nothing to do with that. It wasn't doing very well so I decided to take it down.

***

Her name was Anne L`etoile, but unlike most, the name did not fit her. She was orphaned and did not know of anyone who shared her title. Even had she known any of her relatives, she still would not have fit in with any of them. Like her mother and father, the L'etoile surs were well to do people with little time to trouble with those who they thought were less than themselves. But Anne was very unlike those that were L'etoiles, with her kind heart and down to earth nature.

When the girl was young many fussed that she was a beauty. It was the only way she ever received attention from those that she knew. But as the child aged she seemed to grow plain. She wasn't really plain, just saddened by how the world had treated her during her life. Then when her parents died her appearance seemed to harden all together.

Anne L`etoile was a simple featured girl. Her build was lean and her height was average. She had her mother's large blue eyes. "Like glass," the servants had always said. And she had her father's blond hair. All L'etoiles had blond hair. It was like a curse: blond hair and blue eyes (A/N: no offense to anyone that carries these features. I really carry them too.). Unlike most curses, hers didn't last. With years of time her hair began to darken and she came to favor more her mother and less her father.

Ever since her parents' death, Anne had not spoken a word to anyone. Some people mistook her for a mute, as did the woman who came to meet her at the airport. Minerva McGonagall was how she introduced herself.

"And you must be Anne L`etoile," she said.

Anne nodded in reply, looking up to gaze at the woman before her for the first time. The lady's stern, slightly wrinkled face coupled the two highly polished chasseurs that graced her feet. Both were well kept and conveyed her aspect of business meant. McGonagall wore her grey hair in a tight fitted bun and was dressed an emerald green robe. Her attire looked quite out of place in London's large Luton Airport.

Ms. McGonagall's mouth twitched slightly at the lack of response from the young lady, but she didn't make mention of it aloud. "Well, I expect you had a nice trip, but we'd best be on our way. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

The young woman nodded again, then went to pick up her luggage from the shiny silver floor.

"Follow me, now," McGonagall called over her shoulder.

***

She had never ridden in a carriage before and it appeared that the grey-headed ma'am named McGonagall hadn't either. The strange older woman kept making complaints at every jolt that the small surrey came to. Once Anne even heard her comment with what sounded like _"the use of bloody horses.." _under her breath.

She had forced herself to stifle a smile. After all, Anne's parents were dead and it wouldn't do for her to not play the expected role of the grief-stricken child. 

Ms. McGonagall was indeed a strange character, but Anne liked her. She wasn't flighty like most women that Anne knew. She sat with great posture even as the carriage bounded down the long gravel road. McGonagall was one to admire. That was for sure. And the young woman found it hard to not spill with the million questions that her mind was begging to ask. But she held her tongue, except when necessary.

Anne's first question startled the lady clad in green. "How long is it to Hogwarts." Her voice was pure despite its long dormancy.

"Only a few more hours," McGonagall replied. "You must be exhausted from your trip..." She made a face of disgust in remembrance of the many large bird-like devices that littered the stretch of runway. _Air trains_. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Anne nodded silently and leant up against the padded compartment wall. They had been riding all day and sleep seemed quite appealing.

Minerva watched the young woman curl up on the seat, thankfully relieved that she could relax a bit. When soft purrs finally tiptoed from the girl's mouth McGonagall retrieved her wand from the inside pocket of her robes and placed a simple sleeping spell on the girl even though she was already snoozing. It would be much less unnerving if she knew for sure that the girl was in a deep sleep when they reached the castle. 

***

The English countryside unfolded itself around the large steely grey castle and its lake. The great giant squid swam lazy circles in the translucent chartreuse waters, but other than that the Hogwarts grounds were strangely vacant of the usual life that graced the magical wizarding world.

It appeared that all had been alerted of the stranger that would soon be arriving on that cloudy day to waltz in their midst. All students were away because of the present summer holiday. All faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were either visiting the nearby Hogsmeades village or staying indoors of the castle to escape the season's heat. All owls rested their talons in the confinements of the cool lofty Owlery. All paintings sat stiff in their frames, most slightly abashed at the news of someone so horribly ordinary actually being welcomed to the grounds that had forever been held dear and kept secret. Anne was a muggle. She had always been raised as 'that.' How could Headmaster Albus Dumbledore allow a 'thing' as ordinary as she into a place as sacred?


	2. Chapter 1

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Fic Title: L'etoile

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Fic Summary: When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...

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Post Date: July 29, 2002

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.

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Author Notes: Hi, I'm Anne and I'm relatively new to writing Harry Potter fics. Please read my story and tell me what you think. Any constructive criticism or tips are welcome. Thanks to Penance and AmberAlyssa for the reviews.

***

The room was lit by a few bewitching candelabras. Figures of castles, knights, and star-studded nights on the hanging tapestries appeared to come to life with the dancing of the flames. Perhaps it seemed to be darker than it actually was because of the lack of windows along the walls. The black of Anne's dreams seemed to be lighter than that of the shadows glazing the room. That was what awoke her, she supposed. Or maybe it was the way the engraved snakes seemed to slither up the bedposts. She didn't know. The only thing made clear was that this was to be her new room, if only for the short period of time that she would be staying here. 

Hogwarts, as she had been told to call it, was her supposed home for the generation of the time until her 18th birthday. Two days until Sunday. Then she would be free.

Anne hadn't expected a warm welcome, being that she was most assuredly a nuisance to those that lived here, but this was worse than she had expected. The door that led to the corridor was locked, and her breakfast was waiting for her at the bureau across from the door. Surprisingly, her porridge and tea were piping hot as if they had just been made. Surely she would have heard if someone had come into her room to deliver it.

***

The Hogwarts elves prepared for lunch to be gathered early at 11:00 and the school staff slowly filtered into the small room behind the head table of the Great Hall. A long table made of polished walnut had been magicked into the room and had been dressed to feed the dozen or so people.

The man with a walrus mustache from one of the paintings watched with widened eyes as dish after dish was set atop the table. But of course, none of the platters contained a single crumb until all had joined the room, taken their place amongst their fellow faculty, and Headmaster Dumbledore had waved his hands.

As everyone took to filling their plates the older man with long silvery hair and a beard struck up a conversation. "Everything went well?" he asked McGonagall, whom sat at his side.

"About as well as it could go. The poor girl has been through a rough ordeal," she replied. "She'll have a hard time adjusting at first."

Albus nodded and Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher, looked particularly sullen. 

"Albus, how is it that you knew the L`etoiles?" asked Professor Lupin, a young man with brown hair flecked with grey. He patted his mouth with his napkin and waited quietly for the headmaster's response. Flitwick, on the other hand, cut Albus off. "They aren't wizarding folk, are they?" he asked, his squeaky voice laced with overly concern.

Dumbledore smiled. "No, they're muggles, but that has nothing to do with how I came to know them...

_Mr. Roux L`etoile was a hard working, professional man. As he lived back in 800 A.D. his job was one of the early muggle cartographer and his grind was making maps then selling them to those that required them. Sounds insignificant, yes, but it was he and his wife who first inhabited the lands that now known as Hogwarts._

When the legendary four founders (Godric Griffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin) requested the land in which they lived, the man thought nothing of greed. Mr. L`etoile sold the land so that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could be built.

.... Without their contribution much would be different."

**__**

Hogwarts.

Voldemort.

Dark Side.

Light.

Death.

Peace.

A path of involuntary shudders passed over the assembly. Dumbledore seemed to have thought the same, for he slowly raised his hand to call attention. All focused upon the twinkling eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. "Indeed, the L`etoiles' contribution was a significant one. It was one of the first great passes toward the Light Side," he said.

"That's preposterous! _Muggles_ contributing to the light side..." The ferocious shouts were directed from the far end of the table. The miser-like Potions Master drawled a ragged breath and slowly stood. His two sallow skinned hands gripped the white linen tablecloth.

Albus Dumbledore slowly turned away from Monsieur Lupin and the missus, Minerva. His expression was sullen. "Yes muggles," he voiced strongly. "It is people like the L`etoiles that keep our fight against Voldemort strong. Without them the white flame would eventually burn out."

There was a moment of silence through the room before:

"Something strange is among us. It is not what it seems. It is -"

He cut off the misty eyed Divination witch with bitter words. "Where have you been?"

The woman recoiled in defense, her eyes narrowed.

Suddenly Albus laughed. "Yes, Sibyll, my dear Miss. L`etoile is now in our company at Hogwarts."

Sibyll Trelawney's eyes narrowed more and she let out a huff. As she crossed her arms over her chest the many multicolored bangles clanged together.

"Either that or she's talking about the eclairs," Poppy Sprout groaned as she spit out a mouthful of pastry. "They are filled with mayonnaise."

The table erupted with laughter. Even Professor Snape couldn't hide his sly smirk.

"Strange indeed," Dumbledore chuckled.

***

Anne slept soundly in the large four poster bed and as she did so, a gentle melody crept through the room. Its words were hauntingly familiar.

__

"Roses whisper 'good night'

'Neath silv'ry light,

Asleep in the dew

They hide from our view; 

When the dawn peepeth thro'

God will wake them, and you."

It was a harp playing softly in the farthest corner of the room, yet it was so near. The tune filled every inch of the chamber and it played games with she that was asleep whether to wake or to continue sleeping. A thick smoke began to cloud the chamber, causing Anne to stir awake.

Just as she had opened her eyes, the long scarlet drapes hanging from the canopy burst into flames. The room had caught on fire, yet the harp continued to play.

Anne scrambled out from underneath the covers, fled to retrieve some water to put out the fire. Her shaking hands cradled the bucket of lukewarm water as she ran back to the bedroom. But it would be no use. There was no way that she could get enough water to put out the blazing fire. She held the collar of her nightdress over her mouth and waded through the thick smoke to the door that supposedly led out to the corridor. Even though it had been locked all morning, there could be hope that someone might be able to hear her from the hall outside.

"Oh, please! _Please, someone help me!_" she cried, clinging to the door in despair. Anne closed her eyes against the falling tears and leaned against the frame for support. Then, as she lay against the door, something miraculous happened. The knob turned. It was unlocked.

*

The two cherub blue eyes flashed open and Anne jumped to her feet. She had fallen asleep at the bureau.

"The fire.."

"The harp.." Anne looked toward the corner where the instrument had been. All that stood there was a wicker chair and a large potted fern.

"Just a dream," she whispered to herself, sighing in relief. It had seemed so real. "The door... It was unlocked."

Anne slowly turned around. She walked towards the door and just for kicks reached out and turned the knob. It clicked open.

The young woman jerked her hand back in surprise and stared as if she had touched something rancid. Her fingers slowly raked over her other palm. They seemed to all be in working order. Everything was okay. Perhaps someone had come to unlock it while she was asleep. One thing was for sure. It had been locked earlier that morning.

Anne slowly crept out into the awaiting corridor, her footsteps tenderly crossing the cold floor.

***

Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were the only remaining people in the small room behind the Great Hall when the clock on the mantelpiece read half past twelve. All plates had been cleared from the table with a wave of a wand, but the three stayed for reasons other than eating. The figures in the paintings zoomed from wall to wall, watching silently from their neighboring frames and the fire in the hearth seemed to crackle with a conversation of its own. 

"I still don't understand why you are allowing this..." Snape paused, retaining his silky voice. "_girl_ to stay here. And I don't care what you say about your feelings towards her... _type_. We never have seen eye to eye on that, but I am asking you now. Why for Merlin sake would you allow a muggle to stay at Hogwarts?"

The old man's eyes never seemed to loose their gleam, but beyond that twinkle one wasn't able to decipher his thoughts. He simply nodded. "You still have much to learn, Severus." And that was that. Noble Albus Dumbledore had his ways of steering around the truth, and it was beyond anyone else to question him.

He scooted back his chair and got up from the table. "That was a splendid lunch. I shall give my compliments to the chefs."

Following his lead, the two professors stood and trailed after the headmaster to the Entrance Hall. At the foot of the stairs, before Albus could head to his office in one of the towers, McGonagall asked, "When will you be seeing the girl, Albus?"

The older man stopped and turned with a smile. "I gather that we'll be meeting soon."

Before McGonagall could turn to proceed towards the staff room Snape caught her by the arm. Dumbledore looked at the middle-aged man, with greasy black hair, in interest.

"What?" she asked, frowning.

Snape didn't answer. He let go of the other professor's sleeve and broke into a run past Dumbledore. The older man and woman took after him up the stairs, their boots clicking madly across the stone steps.

With his head start, Snape beat them up the stairs to the second floor landing. Severus stopped dead and his billowing black robes came to rest around his legs. "Good Godric!" he muttered, his eyes wide with shock.

Minerva and Dumbledore came to his side, bent double with pants. "What is it?" she mouthed as her back straitened.

He didn't reply. 

They looked forward, Dumbledore smirking lightly as the stern faced witch fell backward in surprise.


	3. Chapter 2

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Fic Title: L'etoile

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Fic Summary: When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...

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Post Date: August 2, 2002

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.

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Author Notes: Hi, I'm Anne and I'm relatively new to writing Harry Potter fics. Please read my story and tell me what you think. Any constructive criticism or tips are welcome. Thanks to Whether Rose and Alana Lee for the reviews.

***

Minerva and Dumbledore came to his side, bent double with pants. "What is it?" she mouthed to Severus as her back straitened.

He didn't reply. 

They looked forward, Dumbledore smirking lightly as the stern faced witch fell backward in surprise.

"Hello, Miss. L`etoile," Dumbledore whispered, his smile not vanished.

Anne looked up slowly, her blue eyes flashing wildly as an animal's would if a knife was placed before it. Her smooth, nimble fingers dropped the paintbrush and it fell to the cold stone floor, leaving a streak of ultramarine blue.

There was an odd smell mingling throughout the landing. Linseed Oil. Professor Snape recognized the smell as the same substance he sometime used for Potions.

"Explain yourself immediately!" McGonagall exclaimed, her face as stern as always. The two orbs glinted malevolently behind the square framed spectacles, a mimic of Snape's usual expression.

Only Snape wasn't frowning. It was hard to tell really, what he was thinking.

Dumbledore looked merely amused, to say the least.

Lastly, there was Anne. At McGonagall's stern command for an explanation she had bowed her head pitifully and sank to her knees. She then sat quietly for a moment as if pondering the right words. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'm really sorry," she whispered, beginning to weep. She licked away the salty tears as they reached her lips. "I know that I should have asked about the painting before I..."

Anne's voice drifted off and she slowly slid away from the wall that she had been hunched over. She stepped back, her nightdress swishing against her pale legs and her light brown hair falling as a veil over her face.

When she moved from in front of the wall, there was the painting. It was the same as it had always been, the grubby Earl of Manchester - Conlon Morgan III with his snow-white hair plastered neatly to his head. Yet it was different. He was smiling.

Dumbledore's smile remained still. He nodded to Earl Morgan and to Anne.

"He wasn't moving like the other pictures, so I stopped to ask him why," Anne whispered quietly with her attention still glued to her feet.

"Moving?" McGonagall spoke incredulously. "You.. can see them?"

Anne shifted her weight uneasily, her stomach knotting up a bit, then slowly brought her face up to look at them. The two brilliant blue eyes met a pair of cold black ones. She shifted her feet again, for once not obeying her unease so as to drop the gaze. They were the emptiest eyes that she had ever seen. What story was held behind them?

She nodded yes to the stern faced woman.

The old man from the portrait watched the exchange in interest, as did McGonagall and the Headmaster. "My glasses. I've been without them for years, until this clever girl stopped to help," he said.

"I'm very sorry, Sir," Anne cried again, her courage slowly building. She shook her head earnestly. "I didn't mean to do any harm. I'll go back to my room so I won't be a further bother." Then Anne turned towards the stairs.

"No, wait!" McGonagall cried.

"Stop her, Severus!" Dumbledore said.

So Severus took off after the young woman running up the staircase. Suddenly, the floor beneath them shook and began to move. Professor Snape, whom was fairly used to this ordinary ritual, caught himself before he was slammed into the railing, but a few steps ahead the fleer was caught off guard. Anne lost her balance and was thrown backward down the steps.

Luckily, there were only a few steps between Anne and the fifth floor landing. She rolled backward and landed on the knobby floor, her head spinning from her fall. This was just enough time for Severus to catch up with her. 

A thick black shadow fell over her as Professor Snape bent down at her side. He scowled darkly, realizing that this girl was starting to remind him of the many scatterbrained students he taught during the year. She was trouble. "Are you alright?" he drawled.

She just stared, deciding against answering. If he was going to speak in such a rude way, then he didn't deserve an answer much less a thank you for his concern.

His beetle black eyes narrowed venomously as he extended a hand to help her up. "I asked 'are you alright?'"

Anne glared back. "I'm fine." Then she pulled herself up, without the use of his offered hand, and brushed past him to continue on her way back up the stairs.

He caught her firmly by the arm. "Let go of me," Anne commanded, trying to shrug him off, but his grip only tightened.

"I was told by the Headmaster to bring you back, so that is what I am going to do," Snape replied.

"Headmaster?" she asked. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

The sallow faced man ignored her interrogation and continued dragging her with him down the long staircase to the second floor.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said once Anne and he were back in their company on the second floor landing.

"Yes, Headmaster." The cold black eyes continued to glint as he held her tightly by the arm.

"We have much to talk about, Miss. L`etoile," Albus whispered to her.

***

Anne sat down at one of the scarlet chairs and further watched the paintings, whilst Dumbledore took his seat behind the large, ornately carved desk in front of her. The furniture in this room reminded her of that that was in her own room, only instead of snakes the decor was of brilliant lion heads.

It appeared to be an office of some kind with the desk, bookshelves, and maps. Only, the books shelved there held titles most usual compared to any that she had heard of before, like _Duro's Catalog of Luck Omens _and _The 15 Rudimentary Skills_, but what fascinated her most were the many new moving paintings that decked the paneled walls. Most were of old men with funny beards and pointed hats. One of them hadn't quit winking at her since she had first stepped into the circular room.

They had provided her time to go change out of her nightdress before Anne was escorted to this room. Her hair was pulled back away from her face with a small coral barrette and her cheeks were freshly powdered. What was most difficult about getting ready was picking out what she was to wear. 

The only clothes that she had brought with her were that of what a usual teenager would wear. It had been most startling when Ms. McGonagall had come clad in a full-length dress and a long billowing cloak to pick her up from the airport and again when she had seen her on the stairs. 

At first Anne had figured that the older woman was just unusual, but then when she saw the two men along with her on the stairs she figured that it wasn't just her. The one with long wispy, silver hair had on a red and navy robe with embroidered golden stars from the neck to the toe. It looked of something worn in centuries past. It was beautiful.

The only thing remotely similar to what these three strange figures had worn was the gown that she had recently worn to her high school graduation. Anne had thought that it would probably never be worn again the moment her mother had paid for it, considering its beaded bodice and full skirt, but she was glad that it would now be getting a bit more usage.

Snape and McGonagall had thought that they wouldn't be needed once they had delivered the young woman to the Headmaster's office, but it appeared that the old man had other ideas. He motioned for the two professors to mingle in their company. As a heart wrenching "gentlemanly" motion the Potions master pointedly let McGonagall have the last remaining scarlet armchair, so that he was left to either sit on the floor or find another means. He placed the old, Sorting Hat on a nearby shelf and sat down on the wobbly three-legged stool. It was beneath a Snape to lie on the floor like a dog.

Anne looked at the man before her, glancing over his subtle features. Her first impression was that he bore a remarkable resemblance to Merlin, right down to his long beard and moon bedazzled hat. How very ironic considering how similar he and the [muggle] fabled version of the notorious wizard really were. (The real Merlin was quite a bit shorter and looked nothing like the wizard that Dumbledore had grown to be.)

"I guess that we should start with introductions. My name is Albus Dumbledore and that is Professor Minerva McGonagall, whom I believe you've already met, and over there is Professor Severus Snape."

She glanced over at Ms. McGonagall and then to the man with black eyes and greasy black hair. If possible, the light from the windows appeared to pass him off as even more menacing of a creature than during the time when she first saw him. His lips were tightly pursed.

__

Professor? What does that mean? - She wondered, but assumed that this was one of the things that was going to be explained. Her hands folded in her lap; Anne waited for him to continue.

"As you most likely know, you have been brought here to stay until Sunday, your 18th Birthday, when you will then be pronounced free of my guardianship."

"Wait," Anne cut in. "your guardianship?"

"Yes," he stated simply.

"You knew my parents?" she asked. A lump had suddenly formed in the peak of her throat. This was the most she had said since her parents had died.

"Not personally, but I did know who they were and they knew of me."

The blood was pounding in her ears and her head was still slightly spinning from her trip down the stairs. 

Strangely, the old man introduced as Dumbledore seemed to know what she was thinking. "Take a bit of chocolate, dear. It will make you feel better." A strange request, but she took the small, winking ball that read _Honeydukes._

"Thank you," Anne whispered, opening the foil wrapper and plopping the small truffle into her mouth.

"Much that you are going to hear today may be difficult to understand, so there are more there," he pointed to a small red box on the front of his desk, "if you feel you need them."

She nodded, eyeing the box of chocolates. 

"Now, first I must ask you a few questions," Dumbledore said, "and you must try to answer them the best you can."

"Alright." She nodded again.

"How is it that you managed to leave your room this morning?" Professor McGonagall shifted in her chair, her brow furrowing. She, too, had been wondering this.

Anne sighed. "I don't know exactly. I fell asleep after I had been awake for a couple of hours, then I had a dream -,"

"Tell me about the dream, Anne," Dumbledore insisted. He watched her earnestly for a couple seconds as she pondered what to say. "Have another chocolate."

She ate another one of the candies from the box, then began her tale. "Well, in the dream I was actually asleep at first, but then I woke up. There was a harp and the room was on fire. I don't really remember what exactly I did. I just remember that when I went to the door it was open. That's when I woke up."

"Okay," Dumbledore said, coaxing her to continue.

"Well, when I woke up I was sort of shaken up because it had seemed so real and it was such a bad dream. So, just to calm myself down a bit I went over to the door of my bedroom, you know, just to show that it was all just a dream and that it was still locked, but when I turned the knob it opened."

"It opened?" McGonagall asked. She straitened in her chair, watching the young woman with interest.

"Yes," Anne stated to her, "It surprised me at first, but then I just assumed that someone had come to unlock it while I was asleep. Someone did unlock it, didn't they?"

Snape and McGonagall eyes widened and they stared at her in shock.

Dumbledore watched her closely, shock also evident on his face. "No, Miss. L`etoile, the door had not been unlocked."


	4. Chapter 3

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Fic Title: L'etoile

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Fic Summary: When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...

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Post Date: August 5, 2002

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.

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Author Notes: Well, I got a complaint that my Author Notes were too stiff, so I guess that I'll loosen them up a bit. My old note still stands: This is one of my first HP fics, so I hope that you'll read my story and tell me what you think. No flames, please.. but any constructive criticism is welcome. 

This chapter was especially difficult to write, because I wanted it to stand out. I didn't want you to think that it was an ordinary take on writing the situation. Tell me what you think. If you think it sucks then that's okay. 

Oh and here are some reviewer shout outs:

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Zoiy Grockle: Cool name! Oh, thanks for the review and yes, Anne is French.

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Alana Lee: Hey, I really liked the site. I left you a note in your guest book if you haven't gotten it already. Thanks for your reviews... ::smiles:: Yum.. chocolates are good! But I'm afraid that I'm an exception to the Harry Potter world. They don't keep me calm. Ha ha..

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Whether Rose: Thanks for the many reviews. You'll never know how much they light up my day. Remind me, what does 'beaucoup' mean? My brain has gone a bit squishy over the summer holidays.. ha ha. You mentioned Anne painting the glasses. Well, actually, her painting skills are going to configure as a major part in this story, kinda like the original version of _L`etoile_, but I'm not going to say anything further about it. I want to keep you in suspense, don't I? 

The reason behind my story having a lot to do with art, is because art is a major part of my life. Though I don't wish to be an artist as my profession, it is one of my biggest hobbies, more so than writing. If you recall my first version of _L`etoile, _I wrote in my first chapter that Anne went to the Empire State Building to see one of her paintings. Well, it was sort of written from personal experience. I vacationed in New York City this summer in order to see one of my paintings that was supposed to be in the Empire State Building (No brag intended).

***

Dumbledore watched her closely, shock also evident on his face. "No, Miss. L`etoile, the door had not been unlocked."

"That's so strange," Anne whispered, her gaze becoming absent as her mind drifted off into thought.

Dumbledore held a hand to his forehead that had began beading with sweat. He took out a handkerchief from his robes and lightly swabbed his face. "And the paintings..." His voice trailed off.

Anne brought herself to, to look at the strange old man again. "Yes, I'm afraid that I don't quite understand."

"That makes two of us," McGonagall piped up, herself taking one of the Headmaster's chocolates from the box.

"Dear girl," Albus sighed, "I believe that there is only one explanation for it all."

It seemed to be that McGonagall and Snape knew what he meant by this, for they reacted quite strongly about it in words that further confused Anne.

"What lunacy is this?" Snape had roared, jumping up from the stool. Apparently, he instantly regretted those words. He shrunk back a bit, but his face remained ashen and yelled with the unspoken objection. It even showed through his shaken voice. "Her parents are muggles..."

"Yes, Albus, there is no possible way," McGonagall added. Snape came to stand between the two chairs with his two hands gripping the front of the writing desk. His pale fingers were quite a contrast to the dark wood.

Dumbledore's brain was clicking madly, much as a pocket watch would, its components turning over every bit of information and using it to his full advantage. Everything was starting to make sense:

__

The door unlocking.

The painting.

It _was_ the only possible explanation.

He watched Anne, obvious confusion embedded in her face. How was he to tell her? How did most people learn of it? He was reminded of his own past experience...

_Eviticus Dumbledore called to the cottage upon the hill and his young son trotted out of the front door. The moors were bright that day with little sheep playing in the extending carpets of knee-high purple lavender. It was beautiful, the sun painting the equivalent of a French masterpiece on a canvas that was the sky._

He would always remember the beauty of the land that day, and the proud look of his father, and how they talked for hours remembering that of the past and then about what the future would hold.

It was an especially dear day to his life, pointedly because neither of his brothers ever got to experience it for themselves. It was something that made Albus unique.

Dumbledore only wished that Miss. L`etoile's introduction could be as pleasant as his had been. Only, she would never receive it gladly in the company of the office. She had to be sent somewhere else.

"Anne," he purred.

It was the first time he had said her first name, so it therefore drew her attention. Anne nodded carefully her approval, though she knew perfectly well that it had not been directed as a question.

Her whole body felt numb from the stillness. Or was it the stillness? There was no longer a chair in which she sat.

"Albus, no!" McGonagall and Snape cried in unison.

The Potions Master turned to the other armchair that was suddenly becoming emptied. The young woman of brown hair and blue eyes was fading from view. Professor Snape's sallow hands reached out, as to pull her back, but they helped none.

Even with all of the knowledge and training that the two professors' minds held in magic such as this, they were powerless to stop it until the Headmaster had decided so himself.

"She'll be out for a few hours," the Headmaster said, eyeing Snape and McGonagall.

Their faces were bitter. They obviously disapproved of the Headmaster's reasoning, but it was beyond them to say so.

"Ah, don't be vexed. Sit down." Albus motioned towards the two empty chairs.

Professor McGonagall accepted the offer, looking thoroughly worn out from the many surprises the day had already brought. "Honestly, Albus, we are supposed to be on holiday," she groaned.

Snape sat down where Anne had been, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yes, we're supposed to have a break from children like her."

"Anne's not a child," Albus defended. "She's almost 18 years old for Merlin's sake and I believe that she should be receiving a little bit more respect from you especially, Severus."

Snape bowed his head, his greasy black hair tickling his cheeks. "Yes, Headmaster," he replied obediently.

*

It felt as if feathers were beneath her, cool and comforting to the touch. Anne was lying on her back in what appeared to be a field of wild flowers. The cool, tempting breeze made the surrounding plants fall against her face and the welcomed sunshine warmed her golden hair.

Anne lifted her head and sat up from the ground. The open air was vast, but not long enough so that she couldn't see its end. There were thick, foreboding trees surrounding the field, like a forest of some sort.

Within the pasture there was a small stream that looked to originate from somewhere within the trees. It slithered out into the middle of the wild flowers and emptied into a small pond nearby where Anne had laid.

Then by the pond there was a small cottage built of sod with a straw roof. Towards the back of the house there was a large grey water wheel that had been a later addition. Anne could hear the soft trickling of the water against the rocks and strangely she seemed to be drawn towards the wooden cottage door. It felt as if there was a robe looped around her middle, pulling her towards it and coaxing her to turn the handle.

The contrast between the rough, petrified wood and her smooth fingers was great as she slowly pushed the door to the abandoned cottage open. A great gust of wind blew through the front opening, stirring the many leaves covering the dirt floor and taunting Anne's every stride. Chills cursed her back.

"**_Anne_**," the wind moaned.

She tilted her face upward to look at the ceiling where the leaves were drifting. Part of it had fallen in and there was a large opening where the bright blue sky showed through.

The wind called to her again. "**_Anne_**..."

"What is it that you want?" she replied, squinting against the sunlight.

"**_Anne_**..."

"What do you want to tell me?" She sniffed back the tears from her eyes, then decided to close them and finally allow herself to be swept up into the moment; it was the only way that it could happen, for her to accept and have faith in this being.

Anne laid back on the floor of the cottage, the leaves swirling from the sky, and allowed the wind to speak to her.

***

A/N: So, did you like? Ha ha.. how about you tell me... Just click the little purple button at the bottom of the page. Oh, and this weekend I'm going to be taking a trip to Dallas so I probably will be absent from making updates for a while.


	5. Chapter 4

**Fic Title: **L'etoile

Fic Summary: When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...

Post Date: August 31, 2002

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, _May It Be _by Enya, or _Cry, The Beloved Country _by Alan Paton, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.

****

Author Notes: I know that some of these chapters are getting kind of strange and you may not understand them, but I will do my best to try to help you understand them. The chapters to come will be more normal, I promise! In this chapter look at my Author Note at the end for a description of what happened. Please read and review! Thanks...

Reviewer shout outs:

Alana Lee: Hey! How are you? Thanks so much for reviewing.. Oh, and I'm sorry that we didn't have French together this year. Sasha is about the only person I know in my class and she sits on the other side of the room. He he.. Anne is back in this chapter. I hope you like it. I get really nervous about what people think when I post new chapters.

WhetherRose: He he.. thank you! I just love meadows. Don't you? They are so pretty when its spring and wild flowers are blooming. There are a lot of them around where I live. You find out more about the field in my story in this chapter. Hint: It is going to play a pretty major part in the end. Thanks for reviewing.. ha ha.

Elizabeth: Wow!!! Four reviews! Thank you so much for the reviews and the lovely compliments... ::smiles:: They are greatly appreciated.

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*There was a woman sleeping in the grass. And over her was gathered the greatest storm of all her days. Such lightning and thunder came there as had never been seen before, bringing torment and awakening. The creatures of the Forbidden Forest hurried past her, to places safe from danger before night fell and the storm broke. And whether they did see her there in the grass, or whether they feared to halt even for a moment, but they did not wake her, they let her be.

Within moments there was a quiver in the thick "force" of the Headmaster's office. The three occupants recognized this disturbance and the stern Potions Master hastily removed himself from his chair to prevent receiving a lapful of a woman in surprise.

He took a step back and crossed his black robed arms. His face was spiteful.

The air trembled once more, breaking for the person whom fell into the room. 

Her feet slid to the floor as Anne untangled her self from the chair. _Was she back? - _Anne thought. Indeed she was. "I am..." she whispered, confessing her thoughts aloud. Her chest heaved a bit with disappointment. She could have stayed in that meadow until the end of time. It was so familiar, the sky and the sun, like she had known them forever. Yet, she knew deep down that that was highly improbable.

Anne found her voice. "Hello." She nodded to Dumbledore and Ms. McGonagall. Then she turned. There were those black eyes; they glared at her with utmost loathing. Who was this _Professor _whom thought of himself with such superiority? 

But still, the emptiness remained. There wasn't a single glint of life. Yes, even though there stood before her a man of pulse, his eyes were dead. 

Her heart pitied him, even though she did not smile. Anne nodded to him, then turned back around. 

As soon as the young woman turned back to the Headmaster, Severus sighed silently and let his guard down. _Who is she to study me so? Save your pity, girl, for someone else who cares._

Dumbledore watched her earnestly. "Welcome back."

The candlelight played against her face. Her lips parted to speak, but he cut her off.

"The decision is yours and yours alone. Make it wisely, for there will be no turning back."

The crystal blue eyes fell to the floor. She was so lost. "I don't..." 

A gentle hand found itself under her chin, coaxing her eyes up. Anne stared at Dumbledore and he stared back with an intensity of gaze that was strange for such a humble man.

*"When the storm threatens, one is afraid." 

The windows of the crescent wall blew forth, welcoming the night. The familiar wind filled the room, billowing curtains and rustling papers.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she breathed in deeply. It engulfed her, cooling her head, yet warming her spirit all the same. She listened to its song.

__

May it be  
An evening star  
Shines down  
Upon you  
  
May it be  
When darkness falls  
Your heart   
Will be true  
  
You walk a lonely road.  
Oh how far you are from home.  
  
Darkness has come.  
Believe and you  
Will find your way....

Anne sighed; she knew what her heart was telling her to do. 

"I accept. I wish to join the light."

A small, comforting smile curled at the Headmaster's lips. He dropped his hand from her chin and extended it to shake her hand. Through the tears that filled her eyes, Anne returned the smile.

"Bless you, _Dear Star_. Do not be troubled," Dumbledore coaxed. He bent and kissed the tip of her head. "Go now and rest."

__

Darkness has fallen.  
A promise lives   
Within you now  
  
May it be   
The shadow's call  
Will fly away  
  
May it be  
You journey on  
To light the day  
  
When the night is all gone  
You may rise  
To find the sun....  


****

A/N: In the previous chapter Dumbledore placed her under a Fuera Cuerpo spell, where she is sent to a different place until he wishes her to return. That was why Snape and McGonagall couldn't do anything about it. The place in which she goes is actually a real place, but neither Anne or Dumbldore have any control over what happens there. There she is told all about her status as a witch (she obviously is one if she can see the moving paintings) and some of the other important things to know concerning Hogwarts and the rest of the wizarding world as a whole. Don't assume that Anne knows everything about the wizard world. I plan on throwing out a few curve balls in the next few chapters. ::smiles:: 

I'm sorry I had to make this confusing, but it was the only way to slide around having to make her introduction into the wizard world a complicated one. Please don't hate me. Alright.. ::pouty face:: Now I ask if you will read and review.

* - Adapted from _Cry, The Beloved Country _by Alan Paton. I do not claim to own his book so please do not sue me.

__


	6. Chapter 5

**Fic Title: **L'etoile

****

Fic Summary: When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...

****

Post Date: August 31, 2002

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.

****

Author Notes: Hey, here's a more normal chapter for you. I hope you like it. Be sure to review if you have time when you're finished.

Reviewer shout outs:

Alana Lee: Yeah, I'm enjoying it too, but as you said, some of it can drag. Do you have Ashbaugh for AP Govt.? I have her for World History. She's a really good teacher even though she's pretty tough. "Yes, even though there stood before her a man of pulse, his eyes were dead." - that line took about the longest to write out of anything in that chapter. I wanted it to stand out, so I'm glad that you liked it. ::smiles:: As always.. I love your reviews and appreciate them very much! 

WhetherRose: He he.. thanks.. So, you are okay with the SS/Anne thing? I hoped you would be. Most people don't like SS pairings, but I find them refreshing because there needs to always be some kind of joy in a person's life. Snape needs to fall in love or else his life will be meaningless, besides his help with the light side. 

I really enjoy Enya. She's one of my favorite singers; the mystery of her songs is very nice. He he.. I'm glad you liked the chapter, and thank you for the review.

Spark-chick: I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for the review!!!

Wolf: ::blushes:: Thanks for the compliments and the review.

"She hasn't come out of her room yet. I hear that she went cold the moment the Headmaster said witch."

"The poor dear," the Grey Lady sighed. She wrung her hands nervously as Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher, advanced on what he had heard concerning the new addition to the Hogwarts staff.

As Professor McGonagall passed by the specter and the professor, she gave them a stern glance over her spectacles. Professor Vector glanced guiltily the other way, but the Hufflepuff ghost merely turned and glided through the nearby wall.

Minerva hadn't been that surprised being that he was one of the biggest gossips in the school, but she still wasn't pleased that so many rumors were being passed around about Friday's events. She supposed it was the portraits in the Headmaster's office that were the true ones to blame. _Burdock Muldoon always had been rather impulsive._

She paused for a second, thinking about the situation, then she turned around and headed back down the corridor the way she had come.

*

There was a hasty knock on the Headmaster's office doors and Dumbledore called for the visitor to enter. Professor McGonagall stepped inside and the Headmaster looked up from his desk that was scattered with paperwork to gesture towards a chair.

"Albus, I'm concerned about the girl."

"Miss. Letoile," he stated.

"Yes, Miss. Letoile," she repeated. "Well, as you probably already have heard, she hasn't left her room since yesterday. The house elves have informed me that she has pushed something against the door of her chamber so that they can't get in to place her meals. Something might have happened to her," the stern faced witch continued, her cheeks tinged pink from frustration.

Dumbledore looked up once more from his work, eyeing her with amusement. "Indeed," he chuckled.

Either she missed his mocking tone or she was merely overlooking it, for she continued on to prove her point. "Yes, that is why I believe that we should send someone to go and check on her."

"Minerva," the Headmaster purred.

Her rich, brown eyes faltered slightly, but watched his with intent all the same.

"Anne has gone through a great ordeal and will want to be left alone. In time she will come out."

"Yes, I quite agree, but I still think it wise that someone goes to check on her. Just in case," she replied.

Dumbledore smiled. "Alright, if it will make you feel better."

*

That night, intending to fulfill her intentions, Professor McGonagall retrieved a dinner plate from the house elves (whom were quite agreeable towards her pursuit and insisted on generously overflowing a tray with food) of the kitchen, then headed skyward to the sixth floor where the guest chambers were held. What she did not know was that she wasn't alone on her passage.

Down the darkened corridor, eavesdropper recognized the familiar shuffles of Professor McGonagall's high-healed boots across the flagstone floor. Hoping to not be seen they hid around the corner at the end of the hallway. With the light of only one window and several flickering candles, the dark eyes struggled to make out how far away the approacher was.

The Head of Gryffindor stalked down the long hallway, until she came to the door of the snake. Long, sleek bodies carved of ash wood were coiled up the broad facade. She knocked twice, but received no reply so she tried again. Her hand rapped with persistence. The elder voice called through the door. "Miss. Letoile, I've brought your dinner plate."

Silence.

"Are you alright in there?"

Silence.

"Will you please open the door?"

Silence.

"Miss. Letoile?" Becoming desperate, the older woman tried the common unlocking spell - _Alohomora. _Even though it was somewhat rude of her to open the door to someone's chambers without permission, she felt that this was an exception to her morals. She was worried for the young girl's safety.

But when the door was unlocked, she found that it was a wasteful effort. As she had been warned, the frame had been blocked by some kind of furniture, an armoire.

*

When the retreating footsteps subsided, the person hiding at the end of the hall glided out from their cover. Had their not been the plate of food, they would have been hopeless to find the correct door. But there, there was the silver tray on the spotless grey floor. It smelled lovely. Veal. Green beans. Potatoes. Salad. Cherry cobbler. 

There was a rumble from the depths of the layered black robes and Professor Snape's mouth watered at the steaming food. He had decided against eating in the Great Hall this night, preferring to wander the castle halls instead. Before then, he hadn't realized quite how hungry he really was. If only he could take just one bite...

"Don't touch that!"

He recoiled instantaneously, shoving his hands in the depths of his pockets and standing back up. In this jerky movement, the gold goblet of cool pumpkin juice was knocked over into the floor. The stream of orange liquid trickled out across the hall. 

A series of grunts rang out from behind the barricade as the heavy dresser was heaved out of the doorway. The young woman stepped out of her room and bent down to cleanse the messy floor. Her hands grew sticky from the sugary liquid and her napkin was soaked through and through.

Recovering quickly, Snape inched forward with his wand raised. Anne's eyes widened fearfully and she fell back in defense. With one wave the mess was cleared and the professor knelt down to tidy the silverware. 

She was relieved that his strange magic brought no harm to herself as she had expected it would and was left with a curiosity at this unfamiliar sorcery. Her brilliant saucer eyes wandered over his hands and the wand within them as she knelt down beside him.

"Clumsy girl," he muttered viciously, seizing the soiled handkerchief from her hand. His fingertips brushed the smooth palm and Anne let out a involuntary shudder.

Snape paused, his black eyes vacant of their usual sneer.

She shuddered again.

"Here," the professor stood, his scowl replenished. He reached down and pulled her up to stand beside him. "Your handkerchief," he gulped. A cleaned and whiter napkin fell into her fingertips.

"Thank you," Anne whispered.

"Yes," Snape barked in reply. He levitated the tray of food to rest in the air an inch above his hand, then roughly shoved her through the door whence she came. This girl was really starting to be an annoyance.

Anne turned to see Professor Snape slam the door closed, then prance over to set the dinner plate onto the bureau. The nerve of him, acting as if it were she that was the problem. "What are you doing? Get out of my room!"

He glared angrily, his eyes narrowed. "Honestly, you behave as if you've had no up bringing at all. No respect for _authority_."

"My parents didn't have the time to discipline me," she sighed.

"Apparently," Snape growled.

Anne's eyes flared. "Actually you remind me of them, too selfish and heartless to care about anyone else's feelings." Tears threatened to reach those burning orbs.

He stopped dead; then something flickered through his black eyes, too quick to pick up on. Snape scowled. "My job consists of seven months of putting up with bratty, irresponsible teenagers. Forgive me for not being jovial when I am given the chance to take overtime. Why if you were one of my _students_..."

"You'd do what?" she laughed bitterly. "Give me detention, or perhaps just hex me."

"It is without honor to curse one whom is without means to fight back," he replied, as if the idea disgusted him. A growl crept up his throat and he turned to leave. _She is impossible. _With a swift wave of his hand, the armoire by the door soared across the room, narrowly missing one of the four-poster bed's posts. "I'd appreciate it if you would cease from moving the furniture from now on," his low voice rumbled.

Professor Snape's thick, black robes swished loudly around his retreating figure. 

"Since when did you care?" Anne screamed. A salty tear slithered down her cheek.

A/N: So what do you think? He he.. Will you please review? I beg of you!


	7. Chapter 6

****

Fic Title: L'etoile

****

Fic Summary: When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...

****

Post Date: August 31, 2002

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.

****

Author Notes: Hey, here's a more normal chapter for you. I hope you like it. Be sure to review if you have time when you're finished.

Reviewer shout outs:

Alana lee: He he.. thanks for reviewing. Are you okay with the Snape romance thing? I wasn't sure. I hope you like this chapter; it took me a good while to write. Oh, and I've been trying to force myself to the end of _Cry, The Beloved Country_. It's due this next week, but I'm almost finished. Its crazy with all of this homework, but like I'm the one to talk. You're taking all of those AP classes that you have to bust extra butt for. ::smiles:: Good luck in the coming week.

Whether Rose: I guess that Anne's glad about being a witch, but like you said, it would be going against her personality to have her jump for joy like most people would. She's kind of a free spirit and doesn't take well to doing things average. Its pretty fun making her and Snape fight, but I'm not very sure where I'll make the hatred break and them begin to get along. Actually, I'm having a bit of writer's block right now, so any tips or ideas would be accepted gratefully. I'm sorry I haven't been by to read the next few chapters you posted on your story. Rest assured that you will have at least two new reviews on your statistics before the next few days have passed. I've just been really busy right now and besides writer's block that's another thing that has kept me from getting this chapter out quicker. ::smiles:: You know that I love your story and will be delighted to read it. Thanks for reviewing again.. and remember to email me if you have any ideas for the story.

The dewy dawn tiptoed across the sky, yawning cascades of gold across the land. On the sixth floor the guest's hall flamed with sunlight; the suits of armor gleamed. Though there were no windows to hint towards the wakening morn, the young maiden stirred from her slumber. Anne's eyelashes fluttered open, kissing her cheeks with every bat. This was a new day, a day for beginnings.

From the crack beneath the door, beads of light danced in, coming to warm the foot of the bed for her ready feet. Anne glanced around the room. Everything appeared as she had left it; her tray had not been brought.

The house elves had been careful to not be seen, for it was made known that the young miss was not very accepting to surprises. They were right to suspect that of her, because since Anne had come to the strange castle of Hogwarts she had made an internal vow of protection against anything that would strike her as dangerous, therefore she came across appearing unpredictable to those who met her. Luckily, Anne had been asleep every time that the house elves had entered her room. 

There was a soft tap at the door and Anne slowly padded to answer it.

Professor McGonagall had just leant forward to knock again when the door suddenly swung open. Anne smiled and nodded politely to the matriarchal professor. "Good morning, Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall, whom was still quite surprised to be greeting Anne face to face, extended her hellos. _What a sad thing, growing up in the shadow of your own mother and father. No wonder the girl is always toeing the line of spite. She's never known any different. _McGonagall shook her head, clearing away those thoughts. What a challenge it would be for those who had come into association with her, Miss. Letoile; clearly, she made an unruly pupil.

Her brown eyes flicked past Anne to the room. The large four poster bed had already been made up. "I trust you slept well," said McGonagall.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good. Well, I brought up your breakfast." She handed Anne the tray of food.

The steaming sausages warmed Anne's face. She shifted the food in her arms. "Actually, I was hoping to perhaps eat with the Headmaster. That is, if I won't be too much of a bother."

***

Compulsively, Anne ran a hand across her white chemise to smooth the creases, then turned her face upwards towards her companion, a middle aged man with tousled brown hair and warm eyes. When she had opened her room to him he had introduced himself as Remus Lupin, Professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he whom volunteered to show her to the dining chamber.

He was dressed in brown slacks and a slightly yellowed button up shirt, both appearing comfortable in their somewhat worn state. Once he had introduced himself, Remus had carried on a conversation in a polite manner, talking about the weather and asking generally non-personal questions (much like one might address a student). 

"Have you enjoyed your stay so far at Hogwarts?"

"I guess so," she replied, "I haven't been out much since the day that I arrived, but I am getting used to living here."

Remus smiled. "Yes, it will take sometime. Hogwarts is an extraordinary place, as you have probably already discovered, but there are still many well-kept surprises within these legendary walls that even I, whom have spent over ten year of my life here, couldn't possibly know."

'He had a nice voice, this Remus Lupin,' Anne thought. There was something around him, something different and mysterious, something that was sure to lead to even more magical things. She trusted him. 

"I shall see," spoke Anne.

Professor Lupin paused, an echo filling the hall from his last footstep. His worn hand rested comfortably on Anne's shoulder, its traces of silver scars highlighted in the light from the windows.

She looked up at him, a man that she had just met, and he gave her an encouraging smile. Remus's face was warm and compassionate, something that Anne was not accustomed to. 'I bet he's a wonderful teacher,' Anne thought. She almost faltered, but caught herself before there was any display of emotions she felt. It was hard, but she was stubborn at keeping a grip on her emotions.

Down the entrancing master staircase they walked, Anne on his arm. Twice it decided to surprise them on their decent by changing landings, but both times Professor Lupin caught the railings before any could be committed. On the second floor, Anne was sure to give a smile and a playful curtsey to the portrait of Earl Morgan as they passed by.

***

Everyone at the table looked up silently as the door to the room behind the Great Hall slowly creaked ajar. Remus guided Anne into the arena and her stomach gave an unwelcome jolt. All faces were on her.

"Merlin, let's eat. The food is libel to turn cold," Professor Flitwick piped up, breaking the thick tense. 

A couple people laughed at this, knowing that food was always well kept in the wizarding world. Use of wands in magic had its advantages besides just convenience (Ah, the joys of magic).

Dumbledore's bright face welcomed Anne into their midst, without him having spoken. Professor Lupin offered his usual chair to her and took the seat next to it instead. Then introductions commenced, going down the table in order in which the staff sat: Hooch, Binns, Sprout, Vector, Pomfrey, le Sallet, Pince, Morgan, Black, Flitwick, and Hagrid. There were far too many names for her mind to take in immediately, but Anne was sure that she would never forget their strange appearances. She would never miss a face as long as she remained in this company. 

"Ah, it's very nice to meet you.. everyone," Anne said. Then she turned shyly towards the Headmaster and a wink flicked across his face.

"When I asked to have breakfast with you I assumed that we would be dining alone."

"We'll have plenty of time to discuss things before the next week," Dumbledore replied.

The golden plates lining the table filled with food and the room instantly smelled of the delicious surprises. Anne slowly picked up her fork, eyeing her eggs hesitantly, and prodded them.

"Rest assured, my lady," Remus said, "they won't explode." He slipped a large bite from her plate for proof and grinned.

"Yes, but tasting good is another story. I'll have to have a word with the house elves about these sausages, no spice to them at all!" a witch clad in white from head to toe complained.

Professor McGonagall gave Pompy Pomfrey a disapproving look and chewed delicately at her own sausages without hesitation. She was always one to sneer at exaggerations, no matter how close to the truth they really were.

"So tell me, Anne, what is it that interests you most?"

* Change of PoV *

I slowly slid into the room, hoping to avoid the watchful eye of the Headmaster or anyone else for that matter. Only in order to snag a piece of toast it would be fairly unlikely that my presence would remain unknown.

Thankfully my lifting of food was unseen, even by Professor Binns whom was sitting right next to the platter of bread. He was obviously too wrapped up in his own self pity at not being able to indulge in the luxuries of digestion to notice. 

I folded my black handkerchief around my pitiful excuse for breakfast and turned to leave. But alas, I wouldn't get away so easily.

"Ah, leaving the party so soon, Severus?" Anne called to me from across the room. Her face was mocking. She was obviously trying to get back at me from our confrontation the previous night.

My eyes met hers. They are so blue. Beautiful really. 

My stomach drops to my knees and I narrow my eyes. 

They are too blue to be true.

By the age of twenty, I had successfully mastered the art of emotional deception, something that any true death eater was required or rather expected to have. Anne is only eighteen. 

I sneer inwardly as well as out, remembering her words - 'leaving the part so soon, Severus?'

__

How dare she call me Severus.

* Change of PoV *

"Yes, do you have an objection to it? I must have been absent the day Hogwart's granted you audience to inquire within **_my_** personal affairs," Snape spat.

Anne straitened in her hair, obviously forming a retaliation in her mind, but the Headmaster had beaten her to it.

"No, Severus will be delighted to join us." His voice was beyond any objection on either one's part. "Won't you, Severus?" 

The Potions Master effortlessly swabbed the frown from his face. "Yes, Headmaster." The chair across from Anne slid out from under the table without a muttered word and he ruefully sat down in it.

What replaced his previous spite was nothing near a smile, but Anne remarked to herself that it was the most pleasant that she had seen him since they had first met. His following words surprised her further - "Happy Birthday."


End file.
